


Medical work is hard

by Konoto



Category: Les Miserables (Movie 1957)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 16:08:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6159166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konoto/pseuds/Konoto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not many people realize the weight doctor carry on their shoulders when a patient is in their hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medical work is hard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [estelraca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/gifts).



The tension in the air was so thick it was almost as solid as a brick wall, the silence was so heavy you could hear everything, from all the sounds outside, the people’s steps walking up and down the halls outside the room to the careful breathing of every person in the room. All the eyes were focused on the center of the room where they had installed the operating table, the ever-present beeping sounds echoed against the walls of the room.

The eyes of two of the three persons present in the room were fixed on the other person currently performing the procedure, said person seemed to start showing the effects of pressure and stress; there was a fine layer of sweat on his forehead, he was continuously licking his lips, a nervous habit of his, and his hands were starting to shake, specially the one he was using to hold the tweezers, his knuckles white with the strength he was using to hold the instrument.

“Calm down, breathe, doctor, you can do it” the nurse said, her voice meaning to be calming but his nervousness all but faded, they increased exponentially.

There was a life in his hands, if he made the wrong move or cut too deep or didn’t move fast enough and that life would perish. Not many got to understand the pressure and anxiety that sat upon a doctor’s shoulders every time they had a patient lying on a stretcher and their lives depending on every decision you made. So his irritation was understandable, it was very easy to tell someone to calm down when you didn’t have other person’s fate in your hands.

But he bit his tongue to keep himself from lashing out, for anger would achieve him nothing but to make everything worse and he would be left with awkwardness and tension in his professional relationship with the staff, besides the nurse surely wouldn’t appreciate it and take it out on him later, when they were in bed. But no one needed to know they had some sort of relationship, far away from that surgery room.

Taking one deep breath, he leaned forward.

“Here we go” he said, his voice a bit muffled by the mask covering his mouth and nose.

Fixing his dark eyes on the patient, he moved his hand, reaching within flesh and bones to extract that foreign object, the same that was causing all the rukus. His heart hammered inside his chest cavity as he reached to extract it and precisely take a hold on it with the tweezers in his hands, the he proceeded the careful and delicate task of pulling it out, one move out of place and it was all over. He could hear everyone holding their breaths and their eyes fixed on him.

A loud, sudden buzzing sound made all three of them jump.

The nurse smiled and let out a victorious cry.

“You lost, I beat you!” Musichetta laughed, poking Bossuet’s side, making the man squirm a bit, moving away from the offending finger poking at his secretly ticklish spot, giving her an offended look.

“Well excuse me for having ticks that make my hands shake” Bossuet scoffed.

“You don’t have ticks, you’re just a sore loser” the brunette smiled “You were shaking because you felt your inevitable doom”.

“No, I was shaking because you were watching me like a hawk” Bossuet took of the mask and turned to Joly who was lying on the couch, one of his lower limbs resting on a pillow while his prosthetic leg was on the floor nearby. “She was looming over me” he gave Joly his best puppy eyes.

“It was your fault from the beginning for agreeing to play with her” Joly said, his voice calm, if a bit slurry, his pain medication made him sleepy “You know well enough she always wins” at his words, Musichetta stuck her tongue out to Bossuet, moving to sit by the couch next to Joly, smiling as the cat who got the cream “On the other hand, I can’t blame you for losing, that game is terribly inaccurate” Musichetta’s smile faltered a little and it was Bossuet’s turn to smirk. “Just look at it” Joly motioned to the game with a huff of frustration “Brain freeze… A funny bone, really?” he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, babe, it’s just for fun” Bossuet tried to ease him.

“Medicine is not funny business and health is not something to laugh about” Joly said and opened his mouth to go on but Musichetta reached to pat his arm.

“It’s alright, no need to rile yourself up, those meds tend to make you a bit grumpy, darling” she almost crooned, her voice soft and soothing and Joly found himself leaning closer to her when she started to run her long fingers through his hair.

“It says this is for kids from 6 years old and over” Bossuet said, frowning as he looked at the box and then back at the game board, taking the tweezers once more and attempted to extract the tiny plastic butterfly from the “patient’s” stomach, groaning in frustration as the red light on the drawing’s nose lighted up once and twice when he tried again “Damn” he mumbled, trying to get it out again but one of his fingers got in the way and electricity and flesh weren’t compatible. 

Bossuet let out a yelp when the shock ran from the metal ends right to his finger, making him jump, his first reaction was to hiss at the brief pain and check on his finger for damage, luckily for his usually unlucky self, his finger seemed to be just fine.

“See, health is not a game” Joly said, his voice came out a bit softer than before as he was almost purring as Musichetta kept on caressing his hair the way both of his lovers knew he loved.

“Okay, okay, you win” Bossuet’s lips curled upwards in a mild smile, finally admitting his defeat both to Musichetta and Joly.

Leaving the game alone on the little coffee table, Bossuet pushed himself on his feet and walked towards his two lovers, looking down to them with a soft smile he bent over to press a kiss on Musichetta’s dark hair and then another on Joly’s cheek.

“Okay, bedtime” he declared.

The brunette moved out of the way to leave room so Bossuet could scoop Joly up in his arms, if he weren’t so tired, Joly would’ve blushed and protested, insisting he could walk on his own. Musichetta picked Joly’s prosthetic before following both boys to the bedroom, turning all the lights off on her way.

“Oh, poor kitten” she crooned, lying down next to Joly on the left side of the bed, cuddling up to him and letting him rest his head on her bosom “You’ve had a hard day” she rubbed his back briefly, until Bossuet joined them taking his usual place on the other side of the bed to Joly’s right and spooning behind him.

“We’ll get rid of the game if it offends you that much, babe” Bossuet said, pulling the covers over the three of them “After all, we got it for like two euros at that flea market” he chuckled, remembering how Joly made them clean the game at least twice insisting that they couldn’t possibly know where that thing had been at before arriving at the market “We could give it to Combeferre” he teased, knowing that at least the man would laugh at the mockery of medicine that game really was.

“At least he’d laugh” Musichetta agreed “Dealing with Enjolras and Courfeyrac he has to have some sense of humor, otherwise he would’ve gone crazy a long time ago” she laughed softly, her voice vibrating in her chest against Joly’s ear.

“As long as you tell him I didn’t participate in the purchase of that thing” Joly meant for his voice to sound stern but a big yawn just made him sound grumpy.

“By the way, you owe me a rematch” Bossuet perked up after a few moments “Strip poker?” he waggled his eyebrows at Musichetta, the brunette huffed and laughed briefly.

“Are you gonna wear twenty pairs of socks at the same time again?” she arched a dark eyebrow, a mild smirk playing on the corner of her lips.

“Oh, come on, that was one time” Bossuet groaned, feeling embarrassed and he was grateful the lights in the bedroom weren’t so bright so the crimson on his face wouldn’t be as evident.

“And the time you wore four shirts?”

“Okay, two times”

“And the hats?”

“Hey…!”

“The two of you, would you kindly just shut it? I’m trying to sleep here” Joly interrupted them, knowing that if he didn’t barge in they would keep on going till sunrise.

‘Of course, dear’ was the only thing he heard before the room grew pleasantly quiet.

“But I didn’t wear two hats” Bossuet grumbled.

Joly let out a small groan.

“Or twenty socks”.

“Bossuet!”

At the end Combeferre did agree with Joly about the inaccuracy of the game though he admitted it was funny, especially when Enjolras and Courfeyrac got to play and they failed each and every try. The fun continued when they took the game to one of the amis’ parties, sadly the patient died when a tipsy Marius accidentally poured some soda on the board, the poor boy had to endure the mockery of being called a murderer and with Courfeyrac’s constant comments about how good it was that Marius had picked literature and languages as a career instead of medicine, imagine how people did he save by keeping himself away from anything to do with medicine.

**Author's Note:**

> So, it was the first thing it came to my mind, hope you enjoy it!


End file.
